


A Princess and Her Protector

by Queen Kordeilia (QueenKordeilia)



Category: Power Rangers Wild Force
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, F/M, No last names, Paganism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:07:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 16,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24057967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenKordeilia/pseuds/Queen%20Kordeilia
Summary: Princess Shayla finds love in her new protector, Merrick. But it is forbidden. Despite the warnings, she takes the risk and lands herself in a sticky situation.
Relationships: Alyssa Enrilé/Cole Evans, Danny Delgado/Kendall, Merrick Baliton/Original Female Character(s), Merrick Baliton/Princess Shayla, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Taylor Earhardt/Eric Myers
Comments: 7
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

Princess Shayla woke up to the sun shining brightly at her through the window. She smiled and got off her bed, walking over to her wardrobe. Today was the day her father, the King of Animaria, would choose a personal protector for her. Of course, she already had an idea of who she wanted. Him. Her childhood friend, the one who held her heart. He was one of the six most trusted warriors, so he had a chance. Or rather _she_ had a chance.

There was a knock on her door.

In walked the warriors Taylor and Alyssa, two of the six contenders for the honoured position. Princess Shayla looked at them in surprise as they curtsied, a somewhat odd sight given their armour, having expected her lady-in-waiting. That said, as daughters of the nobility, the pair had been amongst the Princess' very first ladies-in-waiting, only leaving her three years ago to become warriors. The Princess had been sad to see her companions go, but to this day they remained the only two female warriors to have risen to the elite ranks, and she trusted them with her life.

"Princess, what have you been doing?" Taylor asked, taking in Princess Shayla's apparel. "Why are you not yet ready?"

As if on cue, Lady Kendall, the Princess' chief lady-in-waiting, rushed into the chamber, muttering a slew of apologies. She stopped in her tracks at the sight of her girlhood companions, red patches appearing on her cheeks, before politely acknowledging them and continuing on her way to her mistress.

"My apologies, Princess," she said again, sweeping into a deep curtsey. "I was... waylaid on the way here."

Alyssa and Taylor exchanged knowing looks, knowing quite who had waylaid her and why. Princess Shayla thought she knew this too, so she dismissively waved a hand at her distressed lady. "Do not worry Ken. In any case, I have just woken up now..."

"Well, you had better hurry up, Princess," Alyssa said, speaking for the first time since entering the chamber. A shy girl of eighteen years, she rarely spoke without purpose. "The King will not be best pleased if you are late for your own ceremony."

Taylor nodded. A couple of years older than her comrade, here was a woman who spoke her mind whenever the whim took her, often to her own detriment where the court was concerned. "So, Princess, what do you want to wear?"

"Oh no, Taylor, please. You and Alyssa should be in the Presence Chamber now. I do not want you to be late—"

"Nonsense! The ceremony does not start until _you_ enter."

"If you say so."

"Come, come, our White Warrior is correct; we must hurry," Kendall said, peering into Princess Shayla's wardrobe.

The four women spent the next ten minutes raking through the Princess' numerous gowns and arguing about the suitability and practicality of each. Finally, they decided on one of the less glamorous options, a navy blue and silver corseted gown gifted to the Princess on the eve of a long-ago Spring Festival but never worn. Kendall then ushered in the Princess' handmaid who arranged the Princess' hair in her preferred ceremonial style: half-up, half-down.

"There..." said Kendall, turning the Princess towards the gilded, floor-length mirror. "Perfect!"

Princess Shayla liked what she saw. She was by no means vain. She knew she could never compete with beauties such as Taylor, whose flaxen hair and sharply defined features stood out in court, even when she wore full-plaid armour, but nor was the Princess plain with her large, warm eyes, and full lips, which today had been enhanced with make-up. Indeed, there was only one word to describe how she looked today. _Gorgeous._

And there was only one thing she wished to achieve. _Stun Merrick, The Silver Warrior._

* * *

Meanwhile, the King of Animaria stood outside the doors to the Presence Chamber, waiting for his daughter. He reflected on that morning's council meeting regarding the honoured position, hoping he had chosen wisely. The longer he thought about it, the more he doubted his decision; most of his advisors had leaned towards another candidate, though none had dared to press the subject too strongly. The King shook away his doubts once more, remembering the divine position the Gods themselves had put him in. He was the king. He, and he alone, knew what was best for his precious heiress.

Speaking of Princess Shayla, she finally arrived, going to her father's side. The King raised his brow in disapproval at Taylor and Alyssa as they hurried past him into the Presence Chamber, ten minutes later than their male counterparts. Kendall followed timidly, blushing for reasons known only to her.

The King shook his head and turned to his daughter. "My darling. On this day, you so resemble your poor dear mother."

"I am honoured, Father," Princess Shayla replied, placing her hand in the crook of his arm.

"The King, and The Princess!" a herald announced, directly preceding the royal pair's entry.

The King led his daughter to the thrones at the end of the vast chamber. His was large and gold-plated with red plush velvet seats; hers was a comparatively smaller wooden chair, albeit one of ornate design, which sat farther away from the former than her late mother's, an identical to the King's, used to sit. In order of precedence, The King took his seat first, followed closely by the Princess and then the rest of the court.

At the far end of the table to Princess Shayla's left sat Merrick, The Silver Warrior, one of the elite six. His eyes had not left her since her appearance, though not quite for the reason she would have liked. Indeed, to him, she was always beautiful, always fair, so it was not her face that drew his attention this day but rather her choice of gown. He dared not presume she had done so consciously, but she had, in fact, dressed in the colours of his coat-of-arms, the very colours he wore right now, as if she were partial to him. The thought mortified him. The kings of old had been known to kill their daughters' admirers for far less.

Sensing Merrick's eyes on her, Princess Shayla surreptitiously glanced at him, catching him unawares. She sighed in disappointment as he instantly averted his gaze, staring intently at the table. From his immediate right, Alyssa watched the exchange in mild amusement, at last understanding why the Princess had opted for an old gown she had never much cared for despite Kendall and Taylor's insistence that she pick something more appropriate for the occasion. Yet even as she shared a smile with her liege lord's daughter, Alyssa knew the Princess had gone too far. The Princess' feelings were no great secret amongst her intimate circle, to be sure, but to flaunt them so openly in front of the whole court was another matter entirely. A grave mistake, even. The King may not yet have noticed his daughter's folly but if a young virgin such as Alyssa had, then the other courtiers could not be blind either.

The King, for his part, was oblivious to the trajectory of his daughter's gaze. He had his back to her, turned as he was towards the warriors' table on his right, exchanging pleasantries with its occupants, Coleton, The Red Warrior; Taylor, The Yellow Warrior; and Maxwell, The Blue Warrior. Finishing his greeting with the latter, he cleared his throat and straightened his back, sweeping his gaze over his court.

"My lords and ladies, we all know why we are gathered here on this day..."


	2. Chapter 2

"I am pleased to announce that I have chosen the Red Warrior to be Princess Shayla's protector."

Daniel, The Black Warrior, intimately known as Danny, nursed his disappointment well, nodding reassuringly to his wife, who sat at an adjacent table, and then congratulating the Princess as if she had somehow personally benefitted from her father's choice. In response, the Princess tried not to cry. Danny, unaware that her tears were more of frustration than sorrow, turned away from her in alarm, only to catch sight of Merrick's lightless eyes. Still, the tender-hearted man that he was, he rose from his seat and walked around Alyssa.

"Disappointing, is it not?" he asked, patting Merrick's shoulder. "But let us not let cast a cloud over Cole's appointment."

Merrick nodded, at once realising his selfishness. Cole, or indeed any of the others, could not have known how badly he had wanted this position, much less why. If the King had chosen Cole, it had to be for a reason Merrick, a man less than half his age, lacked the wisdom to comprehend. With that in mind, he stood, joining Danny and the others in congratulating their leader and friend. He did not meet the Princess' eyes once as he passed her throne, afraid of what he would see in them, or worse, what she would see in his.

By now at the front of the line to Cole, Alyssa noticed that her cousin Max, the youngest of the six warriors, seemed almost pleased not to have been chosen as Princess Shayla's protector. She gave him a suspect look, only to receive a cheeky grin in return.

"Come on a walk with me," Cole said, gripping her hands tightly in his, drawing her attention. "I need to show you something."

Alyssa blinked in confusion, for surely nothing could be so important as to take Cole away from his own moment of glory, but followed him out of the chamber nonetheless. Had she not been so distracted, she would have glanced her father's way and seen the knowing look on his face as he watched her leave.

* * *

Princess Shayla walked around the castle grounds that afternoon, still disappointed by her father's choice. She did not even notice when she ran into Alyssa.

"Sorry, Princess!" Alyssa nearly shrieked, blushing.

"Do not fret, my dear," the Princess said, unable to help herself from laughing. The girl looked positively feverish, a queer sight given her usual reserved manner. "What has happened?"

"Cole has asked me to be his wife." The petite girl raised her hand to reveal her engagement ring, which had quite escaped the Princess' notice earlier. The ruby, set in a thin gold band, glinted in the sunlight.

Selfless, if nothing else, Princess Shayla pulled her friend into an embrace, wishing her and her betrothed well in the future. As soon as Alyssa could no longer see her face, however, the Princess' smile faltered. What a cruel twist of fate, she thought. When Alyssa had first started training as a warrior, she had lamented that Cole viewed her as nothing more than a comrade or little sister. Yet now they were affianced, and Shayla, who should have had Merrick appointed to her this very day, had been denied her most ardent wish. Had it been too much to ask? she wondered. It must have been, for why else would the King, guided by the Gods themselves, have chosen someone else?

At that very moment, the man of the hour walked out onto the field, calling out for both his new charge and beloved. Alyssa pulled away from Princess Shayla, bursting with unbridled joy, while the Princess curbed her jealousy and composed herself.

"May the Gods bring you glad tidings, Red Warrior," she told Cole as he bowed to her. "Alyssa told me that you are betrothed now."

"The Gods have indeed blessed me this day," he said, drawing Alyssa closer to his person. "To become my lady's protector and to have _this_ lady agree to be my wife, all at once. It is beyond my imagining. Oh, and please do call me Cole. I am, after all, to be by my lady's side at all times this day forward."

'Yes, yes, do not remind me,' the Princess thought, fighting the urge to say so out loud. Instead, she asked, "Tell me, Cole, what has taken you so long? Alyssa here has been enamoured of you for years. Since the very beginning, I should think."

"Is that so? I thought she was quite taken with Merrick at first."

"Merrick?" Princess Shayla asked, her voice suddenly hard.

Alyssa flushed, feeling the weight of the Princess' displeasure. She laughed nervously. "When I was fourteen, before I even started training. It was a girlhood fancy. That is all."

The last few words were intended for Princess Shayla herself, and, as a result, she was mollified. She knew very well that she had no right to be upset. Even if she had a claim on Merrick now, which she decidedly did not, four years ago, she had not yet realised her feelings for the Silver Warrior. With a gloomy look at the newly affianced couple, she thought it might have been better if it had stayed that way.

* * *

That evening, before retiring to his chambers, the King strolled through the hallways of his castle, accompanied by a pair of guards. He had much on his mind. As any father to a daughter, he had known from the day of her birth that she would not be in his keeping forever, even as the heir to the throne, but had been content to bury this knowledge in the back of his mind so that he could enjoy watching her grow up. That time was now over. The act of appointing his princess an elite warrior for her own protection had opened the King's eyes to the fact that she was now an individual, a woman grown, and like all women grown, ought to leave her natal home to establish her own. Indeed, she had been of marriageable age for quite some time now. He just had not wanted to see it.

Turning in to the East Wing corridor, the King happened upon a portrait of his late wife. Guessing his intent, the guards stopped before he did, giving their liege his privacy. The King sighed. Princess Shayla was the late Queen's daughter, through and through. Had he been a different sort of man, he would have doubted the girl's paternity as early as her third month, for she was nothing like him—not in looks, personality or character. She had certainly not inherited her kindness from him. Where he would strike a serf or servant for less, she would instead quietly order them from the chamber until later notice. She had never said a bad word to anyone, not even the clumsy serf girl who had spilt wine all over her in Merrick's presence.

Oh yes, the King knew all about the Princess' feelings for the Silver Warrior. He was not a particularly observant man, but the Princess' tendency to wear her heart on her sleeve made it all too easy for him to see what he otherwise might have overlooked. Therefore, he had failed to notice her feelings in the early days, when she was still coming to terms with them herself, but had realised what was going on by the time she took to gazing, albeit somewhat discreetly, at the object of her affection whenever he entered the Presence Chamber. These days, the Princess did not bother with discretion. She spent considerable time sneaking out with Kendall to watch Merrick and Danny train, respectively.

The Silver Warrior was a different story. Reserved and serious by nature, Merrick rarely revealed his feelings to his intimates let alone bared his soul for his liege lord. For this very reason, the King had blacklisted him for protector before even starting to consider the other five. The father of a valuable commodity in the marriage market, the King could not afford a scandal. So far, Princess Shayla's fancy was of little consequence; a few courtiers would notice (or already had), raise their brows, and then forget the moment something else remotely interesting happened. Anything more, say, a few hours unescorted with a man who may or may not return her feelings, and disaster would be on the horizon. The off-chance that Merrick might have turned out to be the best protector of all six, including the Red Warrior, had simply not been worth the risk.

Sighing again, the King turned away from the portrait and resumed his walk. He knew he had chosen correctly. Cole would not endanger the Princess' life like Max, who was a risk to himself, or Danny, who would easily find distraction in the form of his pretty wife, or scheme to get her alone with Merrick as Taylor and Alyssa, being women, would.

The King's optimism was not to last. As he rounded another corner, the one leading to the Princess' chambers, in fact, he heard two voices carrying from the other end of the corridor.

"But still, you must be happy with the King's decision?"

"Content. The Red Warrior is..."


	3. Chapter 3

"Did the King actually observe you in combat, Merrick?"

He looked up at the back of her head, startled.

Walking Princess Shayla to her chambers was not in Merrick's usual daily itinerary, but the moment he had happened upon her in the castle grounds, she had manipulated events such that he had had no choice but to accompany her. He had found her late that afternoon with Cole and Alyssa, looking like a bored chaperone, and, having heard the happy news from Max, had stopped to wish the newly betrothed couple well. Intent on working his residual bitterness off in the training grounds, he had only intended to stay long enough for a brief exchange, but the Princess had had other ideas. Without a single word to him, she had begun insisting that Cole let Merrick relieve him so he could spend some time alone with Alyssa. Cole had protested a little bit, mostly half-heartedly, and Alyssa had simply been embarrassed, yet the Princess had continued to push, saying she would be going inside the castle anyway, where Merrick and the royal guards would be sufficient protection, until he finally relented.

All the while, Merrick had listened silently, knowing he ought to make his excuses and escape the impropriety waiting ahead but ultimately ignoring his better judgment, his original plan quickly discarded. Appropriate or not, he had wanted to be alone with the Princess too. And so he was. An hour passed by before either of them knew it, Merrick's earlier frustration seeping away until it felt like a relic of the past. Somehow, just being around the Princess calmed him in a way nothing else could. Of course, being around her also burdened him in another sense, rousing sentiments in him no commoner had the right to feel.

Realising that Princess Shayla had turned her head, expecting an answer, Merrick cleared his throat, aware of the guards stationed along the hallway. The Princess turned back, remembering herself. Royalty did not look back at their escorts, even elite warriors, unless there was a good reason, and for a princess roaming the castle at night, without a lady-in-waiting, there was none.

"Well?" she asked again. "Did he?"

"No, my lady," he replied. "The King did not."

The Princess pursed her lips. She had never seen the King in the vicinity when she watched Merrick train, that much was true, but had been under the impression that he had called a private audience with the warriors sometime last week, ahead of this morning's council meeting. The idea that he had not was absurd, and she would not have asked if not for the nagging feeling that his decision was biased because of some petty factor. She could not think what, though. Cole was just as much a commoner as Merrick, so social advantage made little sense, and, in any case, it was Merrick's father, not Cole's, who had died on the battlefield serving king and country.

"He should have."

She could not say any more, not with the guards listening, but Merrick heard her anyway. _I would have._ He smiled, ducking his head. Even if she could not see, they could, and _they_ would talk, perhaps until the King himself heard them.

So he said, "That may be so. But still, you must be happy with the King's decision?"

"Content. The Red Warrior is a good leader, is he not? One would hope that he can keep me safe."

But not as safe as Merrick would have kept her, and they both knew it. If only the King, who bounded into the corridor then, could see it too. Alas, he could not, or rather, would not.

"Guards!" he barked, and both Merrick and Princess Shayla turned to face him in alarm. "Leave us!" The King's personal guards left that very second, but the others, stationed in the hallways, lingered. "All of you! Take yourselves off to the next wing, and return only when I leave."

The guards nodded, filing out of the hallway faster than thirsty men headed for a spring of water. Merrick, over the initial shock, dropped to one knee, a most formal measure meant only for those who did not see the royal family on a regular basis. The King flared his nostrils at this, what he considered a display of impertinence, and settled his piercing gaze upon his daughter.

"What are you doing awake at this hour?"

"Just taking a walk around the castle—"

"With the Silver Warrior? Shayla, it is improper to be alone with a man while unescorted. Especially at this time of night!"

The Princess' lips parted. Now she knew her father had a bias against Merrick, for those social rules applied to Cole too.

"And it is proper to be alone and unescorted with Cole?"

The King stared at her, stunned. Never in Princess Shayla's life had she spoken back to him. She had always been an obedient girl, much like her mother, accepting his orders without a single question, complaint or hesitation. Never had she challenged him. Never until now.

"Might I remind you that you speak to your king?" he bellowed once he found his voice. "At least one of your ladies should accompany you at all times, it is true, but the Red Warrior is a completely different matter. He is betrothed to Lady Alyssa and I believe him to be a faithful and honourable man!"

This just angered the young princess more. "And Merrick is not honourable? He is the most worthy man I have ever met! He is just as good a warrior as Cole, if not better!"

Merrick could not take it anymore. It was all his fault. What was he thinking? That the King would one day look upon him as worthy of his daughter? That what the Princess wanted actually mattered? He was just another lowborn warrior, that was all, and because of him, there was now conflict between father and daughter.

"My lady, please calm down. The King is right. It is not proper for us to be alone together like this." He looked up at the King, continuing to kneel. "My liege lord, my king, I am at fault here. I implore you not to punish Princess Shayla for my actions. Cole was by her side, as he should have been, until I insisted that he take the day off to celebrate his betrothal."

Merrick's intervention rankled Princess Shayla, for she hated to see someone blamed in her stead, but she could not help but admire him for it too. Whether the King liked it or not, Merrick's actions showed he was as honourable as she had claimed him to be. Any man with sense would want such a warrior to be his daughter's protector, if not her husband.

Of course, the King of Animaria was not just any man. Knowing Merrick's words for a lie but having no proof, he eyed the man in disdain before waving a hand. "Very well. You are excused, warrior. Just do not let it happen again."

The unspoken threat lingered in the air as Merrick pushed himself to his feet, and Princess Shayla watched him intently as he bowed to both her and her father before departing. In turn, her father watched her, his mind finally made up.


	4. Chapter 4

The King's sheer lack of foresight in dealing with his daughter's impropriety soon became apparent. Where the guards might have simply forgotten about the matter had the King quietly dismissed Merrick in their hearing, now they could not help but wonder what had happened after he had ordered them to leave and, naturally, took to exchanging theories amongst themselves. The servants who frequented their barracks quickly picked up on the gossip and passed it on to those who served the resident nobles and officials so that by the time Princess Shayla joined the King and his court for the mid-day meal later that week, she felt more than one pair of eyes boring into her from across the table.

"By the Gods, Kendall, who is that staring at me?"

Pretending to cast about for a certain dish on the table, Kendall caught the culprits in her peripheral vision. "The Lords Adelmar and Rodric, Princess."

The Princess snapped her head in the direction of the elderly lords who immediately diverted their gazes, though their lips continued to move. Her gaze slid to Kendall. "How could I possibly be of interest to them? Is there something wrong with my appearance?"

Kendall hesitated. She had heard all about the newest court intrigue from her serf girls the night before, and although she had reprimanded them at once for uttering such falsehoods, she had not entirely disbelieved them herself. As lady-in-waiting, it had become increasingly difficult for her to ignore Princess Shayla's growing partiality towards the Silver Warrior, and while she liked to think that Merrick, if not the Princess, would never cross the line of propriety, she knew he was just a man at the end of the day, as weak in the flesh as they all were. Sometimes, she half-expected the Princess to come to her and confess that she was in _trouble_ , and now with these rumours, she was almost afraid to tell the Princess about them, lest she become privy to something she could not ignore. Yet she could not really continue to keep quiet either because the Princess would eventually hear what was being said and then cease to trust her once it became apparent that she had always known. So she finally answered.

"There is nothing wrong with how you look, Princess."

"Then what _is_ wrong?"

"I fear the court is awash with rumour. They seem to believe that the King recently caught you behaving improperly."

Princess Shayla frowned. After the King's rude interruption two nights ago, she had known that Merrick would distance himself from her even more than he already did, but now that the court was talking, she dreaded the lengths he would go to. She would be lucky if he was still inclined to speak to her when they next crossed paths, which was a terrible shame because she had planned to visit the training fields later today.

"But I do not understand. I have walked and talked with my childhood acquaintances many times before. Why is it suddenly of consequence now?"

Kendall sighed. "Because they believe it has gone further than mere walking and talking, Princess. They believe matters have reached the bedchamber."

"The bedchamber?" the Princess repeated, her face growing hot.

Not once in the last three years had she entertained the notion of inviting Merrick into her bed. Assuming he would even accept, a most unlikely outcome, guards were a constant presence outside her chambers, and maids were in and out at all hours, even in her absence. She was not stupid enough to try to smuggle in a man despite that, no matter how much she longed to be alone with him, and the fact that the court thought otherwise was deeply insulting. For the first time in her life, Princess Shayla found that she rather resented these men and women who barely knew her yet thought they had the right to discuss her private affairs.

* * *

Elsewhere in the castle, the Animarian warriors were hard at work. Since the commence of Cole's new duties, the task of taking charge during training had fallen to his second-in-command, Taylor, who, as expected, had proven to be a tough trainer. Max found her especially harsh, which had already led to a disagreement, so Alyssa and Danny had taken to keeping the two apart, leaving Merrick without a partner.

Sat on the sidelines, Merrick stared listlessly at Max and Alyssa as they traded blows, their figures blurring together before his very eyes. He could not stop thinking about the crude suggestions some of the guards posted outside his chambers had dropped that morning, ranging from remarks about social-climbing commoners to sexual jokes about Princess Shayla. Of course, no one had dared to say any of this directly to his face, nor had they mentioned the Princess by name or even title, but the comments had been obvious enough for him to want to put them in the infirmary for the rest of the week. The only thing that had stopped him was the thought of the guards taking his anger as some sort of confirmation and then spreading further rumours as a result.

Merrick was no fool, or at least he liked to think he was not. He had always known nothing good could come of his friendship with Princess Shayla, especially after realising some of his finer feelings for her, but had been happy to pretend otherwise because he could no more stay away from her than he could turn his feelings off. Now, even he realised that things could not continue the way they had. The Princess had a reputation to protect, and he had a sick mother back home he needed to stay alive for, if nothing else. They had had their fun together, he and she, a warrior and a princess, but now it had to stop, before the rumours became more serious and the King himself was forced to take action.

His only regret was that he would have to hurt her. She was more carefree than a princess ought to be when it came to propriety, and he knew she already thought him too distant, perhaps even cold-hearted. She would not understand why he had to what he had to do. She would take it personally.


	5. Chapter 5

Merrick need not have worried. After witnessing firsthand how easily the court could turn against her, Princess Shayla was the one to put some distance between them, dispensing with her regular visits to the training grounds. This decision brought her no joy, of course. Most of her ladies-in-waiting were either betrothed or married, and hearing of their love lives when she had just been forced to put hers aside made her feel empty. She had felt particularly jealous when one of her unmarried ladies received a gift from a suitor right in front of her.

Fortunately, not all her time was spent in the company of her ladies. As heiress to the kingdom, she attended council meetings two or three times a week, learning about the affairs of state she would one day see to, and despite her growing wariness of the court, she continued to do so after the East Wing incident.

In one such meeting, she dutifully sat to her father's right and listened to a discussion about the economy, though she did not participate, sure that the advisor currently speaking was one of those who still whispered about her behind her back. The advisor was halfway through his speech when he was interrupted by the entry of an official who informed the King that he had a visitor.

The King waved a hand without looking up from his scrolls. "Tell him to wait. This meeting will continue for quite some time."

The official lingered. "But it is a messenger, sire."

Panic rippled through the council. Messengers were only ever known to bring two types of news, both bad: reports of attacks outside the city, or declarations of war. The kingdom had barely recovered from its last war, one in which a great number of her men, including Merrick's late father, had perished, yet the King showed no signs of alarm, calmly repeating his order. The official's obedient response was drowned out by the sound of the visitor throwing the doors open and barging into the chamber.

"What is this?" the King asked, rising from his throne. "No one is to come into my presence without my permission."

For all her brashness, the messenger dropped to her knee at once, bowing her head low. Her all-black apparel gave no indication as to which kingdom or principality she hailed from.

"My apologies, oh great King. My lord bade me return to his side as soon as possible, so I could wait no longer."

The King was not impressed. "And who is this impatient lord of yours? Go with my man to my Presence Chamber; I will see you after this meeting finishes."

The messenger did not take kindly to this comment about her lord, her lip curling in contempt from behind her veil, but it was the Princess, not the King, she briefly looked upon in scorn. The Princess straightened her back in response, mistaking the scorn for disapproval of her posture.

"There is no such need," the messenger said, lowering her eyes once more. "My Lord of Org only sent me here to confirm that he will attend the suitor gathering next moon."

Reassured that there was no new war on the horizon, the advisors instantly relaxed, but Princess Shayla sucked in a breath, turning to her father in disbelief. The pale-faced King did not return the gesture, staring at the messenger as if he himself was shocked by her news, and a long silence passed, broken only by a prompt of 'sire' from the chief advisor.

"Very well," the King said once he regained his bearings, his eyes still on the messenger. "You may return to your lord now."

The woman shot Princess Shayla one last look before leaving but no one noticed, least of all the Princess herself, who sat there silently, gripping the arms of her high-backed chair. By now the messenger's words had sunken in and so the advisors were confused, having heard nothing of a suitor gathering since the Princess had first reached the age of majority, back when the Queen had still been alive. Even then, it had only been spoken of as a possibility in the foreseeable future, not a fixed event to take place within weeks. Before any questions could be asked, however, the King took control of the situation.

"Council is dismissed; we shall reconvene in two days."

A flurry of 'yes, sire's went around the Council Chamber, accompanied by the rustle of scrolls and scraping of chairs. Eager not to give the court yet another reason to talk about her, Princess Shayla allowed her father to take her hand and help her out of her seat, dropping the facade the moment the last advisor left the chamber. She was inches away from the double doors herself when her father spoke up.

"I shall be coming to your chambers shortly before the evening meal. Be prepared to admit me."

She inhaled deeply, holding her head up high. "Yes, sire."


	6. Chapter 6

A moon passed in the blink of an eye, and the court was soon prepared to receive the dozen or so suitors the King had personally written to. The preparations, the likes of which had not been seen since the King's wedding two decades ago, were on such a scale that the advisors who had initially been offended by their lord's secrecy quickly forgot their bitterness, happy for any excuse to engage in pomp and revelry. Even the serfs and servants, despite having been worked to the bone, were glad for this respite from normal courtly life, eager to catch a glimpse of the man who would one day be their king in all but name.

Perhaps only two people in the whole kingdom did not share this enthusiasm, one of whom expressed it by slogging away in the training grounds, stewing in his own sweat. On this particular day, the other warriors had all left him an hour ago to clean up, expected to join their families for the evening meal. With no family in the castle and very few invitations, he usually ate alone, dining whenever he felt like it, or sometimes not at all.

His stomach growled as he swung his sabre out before him, but he did not even consider heading inside. He had been a disaster in his training sessions as of late, often losing focus or lashing out, both of which carried the penalty of a forced break and some sort of talk from one of his female comrades. He did not know which was worse: a tongue-lashing from Taylor or one of Alyssa's gentle inquiries. The latter was so genuine that he sometimes contemplated opening up to her if only to repay her kindness, but the danger of sounding pathetic always stopped him. After all, he had resolved to distance himself from Princess Shayla, even at the cost of hurting her, yet when she had gone ahead and saved him the trouble, he was the one who had been left sulking.

So caught up in his thoughts was he that Merrick did not notice a lost band of travellers venture onto the training grounds until one of them, a man with curly brown hair, called out to him. They were unarmed and appeared to be harmless, but he kept his sabre at hand as they approached.

"Yes?"

"Greetings," said the man, smiling a smile Merrick suspected was quite popular with the ladies. "My name is Xander and I have an audience with your king. Would you be so kind as to take me to him?"

"What business have you with the King? We have not been told to expect visitors."

"We are here for the suitor gathering."

Merrick did not dignify that claim with a response, and not only because the gathering was still a week away. For one, Xander and his two companions, another man and a woman, were not dressed like any nobles or royals he had ever seen. If anything, they had the look of travelling minstrels with their black capes, white tunics and eccentric leather outer garments, the latter of which seemed to be colour coded: green for Xander, yellow for the other man, and pink for the woman. As for the second, there was no reason for a woman to attend a suitor gathering, and with her olive skin and dark hair, she could hardly be explained away as sister to either Xander or their fair-skinned, red-headed companion.

Speaking of the woman, she impatiently stepped forward and pushed Xander aside. "Look, we were separated from the rest of our party somewhere along the outskirts. They should be with the King right now; take us to him and you will see."

"The King has not received any visitors besides petitioners."

"But they were ahead of us; they should have arrived before us." She was no longer talking to Merrick but the red-headed man in yellow. "Do you think they were attacked by bandits? Oh, Maddie..."

"V, calm down," he said, placing an arm around her. He then turned to Merrick. "Are you sure? They are a party of six: three men and three women."

"This path here is the only way in and out of the castle that is open to visitors, and I have been right here these last few hours. I would have seen them." This was not strictly true, for Merrick had failed to notice Xander and Co.'s presence only five minutes ago, but he was in no mood to admit this.

While 'V' grew pale and her friend continued to soothe her, Xander tried his luck with Merrick once again. "My lord... Can I call you my lord? I know we are early for the gathering, but the King will not mind. In fact, he will be glad of it. Please, if you would just lead us to him."

Merrick was unaffected by his charm. "Produce an invitation and I shall take you to him. The guards will not let you pass without one."

Xander's smile finally slipped.

* * *

Meanwhile, six travellers knelt before the King and the Princess in the Presence Chamber, a few leagues behind their escort, the son and heir of the Lord of Silver Hills. Amongst the entourage were a young man and woman dressed in the same attire as Xander and his friends, red and blue respectively, and an older woman in white with flaming red hair who immediately caught the Princess' eye, striking her as vaguely familiar.

"Wesley, I hope you have not brought me another wave of petitioners," said the King, leaning back in his throne. "Or come here with a petition of your own."

Wesley rose to his feet. "Not at all, my lord. I am here on personal business. Well, my wife's business."

"Business so grand you have brought half of your household with you? I do not recognise a single one of them... You may all rise now."

Standing in unison, the three men and three women bowed or curtsied as appropriate, and then a man of a similar age to the King stepped forward from the centre of the group, coming into step with Wesley.

"My lord, it is I, Leanbow. My lord will recall our correspondence last moon?"

The King's eyes lit up in recognition. "Aah, the Knight Wolf of the Mystics, of course. I did not expect you for another few days. But what brings you here so late? A couple more hours and you would have arrived in the dark."

"I apologise for the inconvenience, my lord," spoke the woman in white. "We had planned to arrive before the evening, but we encountered trouble with our carriage along the outskirts and were separated from one of our other carriages. After we repaired our carriage, we lost our way, heading for Silver Hills. If not for Lord Wesley crossing paths with us, we would have ended up in the wrong city."

"I see, Lady...?"

"Udonna, my lord; wife to Leanbow."

"Lady Udonna. Lucas, see to it that the servants prepare a chamber for each of our guests here." The royal secretary, who had stood silently by his king's side since the last petitioner had left, wordlessly obeyed and left the chamber. "Lady Udonna, if you would introduce the rest of your party."

Udonna obliged, introducing the young people as her son Bowen and daughter-in-law Maddie, and the other, older couple as her sister Niella, Lady of the Gate, and brother-in-law Daggeron, the Solaris Knight. Unlike her sister, Niella had hair the colour of honey and wore a purple gown cut from the same material as Princess Shayla's, a far cry from Udonna's simple priestess-like garb. There was no such difference between their leather-clad husbands, both of whom wore swords on their belts.

The King nodded, clapping his hands together. "Welcome, all of you. This is my daughter, Princess Shayla, the reason you are all here."

Princess Shayla frowned at this reminder, swallowing any words of greeting she might have had for her father's guests. She did not even do them the courtesy of smiling. Luckily, the herald outside the doors announced a new arrival before the Princess' rudeness could become apparent, and Taylor entered the chamber only moments later, followed by Xander and his friends.

"The rest of your party, Knight Wolf?" the King asked as V rushed to Maddie. "I shall have three more chambers drawn up for you."

Leanbow was quick to protest. "Oh no, my lord; five will do. Only Xander here needs a chamber to himself."

While Xander proceeded to introduce himself to the King, much in the same manner as he had done with Merrick, Taylor spotted Wesley standing behind the Princess' throne, talking to Cole, who was waiting to escort his charge to her father's chambers for the evening meal. Expected at her own father's chambers before long, Taylor quickly approached the two men.

"Could I talk to you, Wes?" she asked, briefly smiling at Cole.

"Of course," Wes replied, nodding to Cole before stepping aside with Taylor. "Eric has not arrived early if that is what you are worried about. He will be bringing Jen and Sky up here tomorrow, as planned."

"No, it is not that. I only wanted to invite you to dine with us."

"Oh. I was going to eat after settling in, but I suppose my man could manage it on his own. Your parents will not mind my intrusion?"

She shrugged. "Why should they? They rarely have guests, you will be a great lord one day, and there is always more food on the table than anyone can eat, even starving warriors like us."

"It is settled, then. I will take my leave of the King and then we can walk to your father's chambers together."

"No, I will meet you there. I must go and find Merrick first."

Sat within earshot of the pair, Princess Shayla immediately tore her gaze from the man in yellow, who had just been introduced as Charles, a mystic knight, and subtly leant in their direction, propping her elbow up and resting her face against her palm as if she were tired. She was well aware that such an action could easily be misconstrued as rude or disinterested, but it mattered very little when she had not heard Merrick's name in weeks.

"Will he be joining us?" Wes asked, surprised. "Taylor, your parents..."

"I know, I know. They will complain endlessly about having had a commoner sit at their table, especially the old man, but they will do it after he has left. Their time with Eric has taught them at least that much."

"Or the promise of his one day being elevated to Lord has."

Taylor rolled her eyes. "Or that. But they will welcome Merrick whether they like it or not. That is why I invited you, actually. He might feel more comfortable with another guest there. I really cannot let him spend the evening alone."

"Why? Has something happened?"

"Only to the King's guests here. I found him ready to duel the one in green just now in the training grounds. He has been so overwrought, lately. I think he is going to work himself to death."

"I see. Do you want me to talk to him?"

"You can try. Alyssa tells me she got close once or twice, but you know Merrick. He keeps himself to himself. Besides, I do not think it is any of _us_ he wants to talk to."

The Princess looked away in time, unblinking, but she did not fool Taylor who saw the set of her jaw and the faint pink hue of her cheeks, even in the dim light. Taylor's lips twitched as she took her leave of Wes. It had not been her intention for the Princess to overhear their conversation, but, for Merrick's sake, she hoped the Princess would act upon it all the same.


	7. Chapter 7

Royal heir was not Princess Shayla's only position at court. In the absence of a queen, she doubled as the first lady of the court which, amongst other things, meant she was chiefly responsible for the comfort and happiness of the King's guests. As such, she dutifully invited the Mystic women to join her and her ladies in her chambers on her next idle day, the first of two in a week. They all accepted, arriving together sometime during the ninth hour.

Despite her years of regal education, the Princess found herself nervous as her guests, two pairs of sisters, took their seats in front of her. Four was not a large party, but there had been no foreign women at court since before her mother's death and therefore no occasion for her to practice playing hostess. It occurred to her then how deeply unprepared she was for married life. With husbands and children of their own, her ladies would not accompany her to her future husband's castle, and her husband, whoever he was, would almost certainly hold a livelier court than her old father, leaving her to make merry with the wives and daughters of his nobles as well as those of the visiting lords and princes all on her own. The whole scenario seemed to her a nightmare, one that grew closer to reality with each passing day.

Desperate to think of something else, anything else, she turned to Vida, sister to Maddie, who was fidgeting in her gown. "We do not have knights here in Animaria, Lady Vida. I am afraid I know nothing of the concept."

"Just Vida," said woman replied, glaring at a pair of ladies behind the Princess who so obviously found her discomfort amusing. "My husband is still a knight-in-training. Besides, I would be Knightwife, not Lady."

"Oh. A knight is not some manner of lord, then? Only, I had assumed, since Lady Niella and Lady Udonna are both married to knights."

"Oh no, my lady," said Niella, from Vida's side. "Knights are to lords what lords are to kings. They are warriors, first and foremost, but in peacetime, they are tasked with keeping order in the land. The Mystic Knights serve me, and I serve our queen."

"I see. And the son of a knight is not a knight himself? I noticed your nephew was not introduced as one, despite his father."

"That is right. Knights are made, not born. A warrior must earn his knighthood, and my nephew has no interest in following in his father's footsteps."

The Princess nodded. "I suppose Lord Wesley's Silver Guardians are rather like knights. The closest we have here in the capital are our elite warriors, commanders of the royal guard, led by my protector."

"I am curious, my lady," said Udonna. "Can these warriors wed noblewomen, as knights can? Princesses, even?"

Silence engulfed the chamber at once, Princess Shayla's ladies abandoning their conversations to hear her reply. They were all thinking of the scandal caused by her and Merrick last moon and she knew it, but she hid her irritation as best she could, motioning to a nearby handmaiden for some water.

"Noblewomen, yes. One is married to my lady here"—she gestured to Kendall, who had gone silent like the rest of them—"and my protector is betrothed to another nobleman's daughter, a fellow elite warrior. But I am the only princess in this realm, and none would dare ask for my hand."

"No, I suppose not."

A marked sorrow took root in Udonna's eyes, but before the Princess could dwell on it, a loud shout from the back of the chamber drew her attention. Vida leapt out of her seat like lightning, glad for the excuse to get up, and ran in the direction of the disturbance. Stopping in front of the chamber's sole window, she proceeded to lean so far out of it that her head disappeared from view. The Princess nearly choked at the sight, her hand flying to her mouth, but Vida's own companions were unfazed.

"Fret not, my lady," said Maddie. "My sister knows what she is doing."

Indeed, Vida pulled herself back with ease only moments later, her feet gracefully landing on the floor. She looked to her sister, unimpressed. "Xander."

"Xander? Why?"

"Who knows? The men are sparring in groups—Mystics against the Animarians—and he is not fighting with them."

Niella smiled. "So that is why Daggeron left me in such a hurry this morning. Are they winning?"

"Difficult to say. They are two for two now, but Daggeron is the superior swordsman."

Curious, Princess Shayla rose from her seat and headed for the window. Her chambers overlooked the courtyard, not the training grounds, and the only time it had been used in recent history by someone other than the servants or guards was when the castle gates had been opened to her mother's mourners. She had certainly never witnessed a fight there before, save for a minor scuffle between two guards last year that was over before it had even begun.

The scene below was no scuffle, yet neither was it an even fight. Merrick and Max were proficient swordsmen, wielding their standard-issue sabres with all the skill that was due to them, but the Solaris Knight was the measure of both men combined, and with his protege at his side, the balance was tipped in his favour. This did not concern the Princess, though, who was relieved to see Merrick standing at all after the worrying report from Taylor only two nights ago.

"So, what does my lady think of her first suitor?" Vida asked from her left, breaking into her thoughts. Maddie hissed Vida's name from behind, but neither woman heard.

The Princess reluctantly slid her gaze from Merrick to Xander who stood amongst the bystanders, cheering his fellow Mystics on. She suddenly felt naive. It had not once crossed her mind that he was her suitor, yet, as the only unmarried Mystic, he had to be. Admittedly, he did not look like a lord anymore than Daggeron or Leanbow did, but she had heard him call Niella 'mother', so he had to be the lady's son and heir, in line to inherit her title, lands, and, most importantly, her army.

Yet for all his charm, wealth, and good looks, the Princess found Xander wholly underwhelming. Perhaps it was his age, a good three years shy of hers, or the way he seemed to whine when something upset him, but she doubted she could ever come to love him in the true way. Still, there were worse choices out there. Much worse, if court gossip was anything to go by.

"He is as well as I can hope for, I suppose."

Vida was not listening, however. "Whoo!" she shouted, her hands cupped around her mouth. "Knock him to the ground, Chip!"

Nearly everyone in the courtyard heard her, from the servants to Wes' young son, and they all turned to look up at her. At long last, blue eyes met brown.


	8. Chapter 8

Merrick cursed himself as he stood beneath Princess Shayla's window after nightfall, torn between staying until she appeared in the moonlight and leaving before one of her handmaidens looked out instead. The rumours may have died down after a moon's turn, the court having turned its attention to the visiting Mystics, but there was still no excuse for his presence in the inner courtyard, where even the serfs and servants did not loiter around after evenfall. Yet he could not bring himself to leave. His brain had been addled by the wine he had taken with his evening meal, and all he could think of was the glimpse he had caught of her that morning during the spar and how it had not been enough.

Still, he was not so drunk that he failed to register the footfalls behind him. He turned slowly, hoping for a short-sighted old hag or some fool who walked around without ever looking up. It was neither.

"Unable to sleep?"

Out of the shadows stepped the Knight Wolf, his face illuminated by the moonlight. In his slow state, Merrick reached for his sabre, only to realise he had left it in his chambers before heading to Taylor's father's for the evening meal.

"And you are?" he asked instead.

"Leanbow of the Mystics."

"Ah."

The name, among many others, had come up that first evening he had dined with Taylor's family when Wes had described in great detail, for the benefit of Taylor's parents, the Knight Wolf's appearance, including the wolf sigil stitched on his tunic and carved into the handle of his sword.

"What are you doing here?"

"Taking a stroll before I retire for the night. They do not call me the Knight Wolf for nothing."

Coming to his senses somewhat, Merrick looked about him, realising how fortunate he was to have been caught by an outsider. Such fortune did not come twice.

"Come, then, my lord," he told Leanbow, anxious to leave. "You can keep me company."

He gave him no opportunity to reply, leading him out of the courtyard and into the larger outer court. Never isolated, this area was presently occupied by a few serfs, including the smith, whose working days finished well after their masters'. A couple of serf girls threw the two men suggestive looks, but Merrick failed to notice and Leanbow ignored them.

"I am not a lord," Leanbow said as Merrick fell into step with him. "Are you? You have the look of a courtier."

"Would that I were. Alas, I am a lowly retainer."

"Lowly? I do not believe it. You dress too well."

Merrick smiled humourlessly. "These are my best clothes; I have been made to dine with nobles these last three evenings. They cannot stand me, I think, but I do it for their daughter."

"Ah, the noble parents. I know the story well. I wish you luck."

"If only you knew."

"No, truly. My wife was one such daughter. The Princess's situation reminds me." Merrick halted, which Leanbow took for a sign of confusion. "The suitor gathering. The Lady Udonna had one too, some twenty years ago."

"I thought such things only happened to princesses."

"Generally, yes. But the then-Lord and -Lady of the Gate had just run out of money, and their youngest daughter was the only means of restoring their wealth. That flaming red hair of hers made her a famed beauty, you see. Men were willing to pay a fortune to win her."

"So you attended the gathering and won her?"

Leanbow chuckled, shaking his head. "No. I was, then, as you call yourself, a lowly retainer. Not yet a knight, even, but a warrior in service to her parents. I would never have dreamt of it."

"But you loved her? And she loved you?"

"Yes. We had never spoken of it, but somehow we had always known, and after a while, we fled the castle together with her sister's help."

Before he knew it, Merrick found himself thinking that the Princess had no sister, at least not one her father cared to acknowledge.

"I would not recommend it," Leanbow went on, oblivious to Merrick's treasonous thoughts. "The family lost their last shred of honour when they were forced to declare their prize missing, and the highest bidder very nearly began a war to avenge his insult. No, what you are doing is much braver."

Merrick blinked, startled. "What?"

"Courting your lady for all to see instead of stealing her away from under her parents' noses."

"Oh," was all he could say. He opened his mouth again, wanting to tell Leanbow that Taylor was just a friend, betrothed to another young man who attended her father's evening meals alongside him, but his head took a turn just then, his tongue growing heavy.

Leanbow spoke instead. "Get yourself off to your chambers, young warrior. I should be getting back myself; my lady wife will be wondering where I am."

Managing a nod, Merrick saw the knight off before heading for his chambers. That night, he dreamt of a lowly warrior spiriting his lord's daughter away. His hair was dark, but hers was not red.


	9. Chapter 9

Half a league from the castle stood a large temple made entirely of white stone. Commissioned by the grandmother of the current king in the last years of her reign and seen to completion by her successor, it had been built exclusively for the highborn who disliked worshipping alongside commoners, and while entry had since been extended to all residents of the castle, the ladies of the court still flocked to its doors the morning of the suitor gathering. As they knelt before the statues of the five gods and prayed for a good match for their princess, their husbands and fathers remained at the castle and paid court to the King, joining him in his wait for the suitors. In all the excitement, Princess Shayla slipped out of her chambers unnoticed and unaccompanied.

She did not venture far. She had not gone to the fields in the daylight since distancing herself from Merrick, taking her walks after evenfall, when he was certain to have retired from training for the day, so she was not as bothered as she once might have been at the prospect of sitting directly on the ground. Indeed, she lay back on the grass altogether, closing her eyes and thinking of better days. She remained so until she was interrupted by Xander, whose greeting startled her.

"Lord Xander," she said, her hands flying to her hair as she sat up. Her handmaidens had only just brushed the knots out of it, and she felt guilty for ruining their work.

"Escaping, my lady?"

"No more than you are. I have come out here to clear my mind before... well." She paused, wary of sounding like an ungrateful daughter. "Before I meet my fate."

He smiled, sitting down next to her. "If my lady does not mind my saying, there is no need to look so morose. Marrying for duty does not mean leading a loveless life."

"No?"

"No. An unhappy man may take a mistress or two; everyone knows it."

She swallowed a scoff. "Forgive me, my lord, but I do not see how that helps me."

He detected the hardness in her tone and quickly rectified himself. "Women may take lovers too. Why, our very own queen begot our princess by one of hers. To this day, no one knows who he is, or was. Rumour has it she turned him into a worm."

She stared at him, unable to discern whether he was jesting or not. In Animaria, bastards were not princes or princesses but plain lords and ladies, and while most kings of old had had mistresses and serf girls, no queen had ever publicly taken a lover, much less had a child by one. It was unthinkable. But then, no queen had ever ascended the Animarian throne unmarried or unhappily married.

"And this princess is eligible for the throne?" the Princess asked, more curious than sceptical.

"She was."

"A legitimate half-sibling, I suppose?"

Xander sighed, gently skating his hands through the blades of grass at his side. "A man, my lady. Our queen did marry, but she had no other children."

The look on his face then reminded her of the sorrow she had once seen in Udonna's eyes, and she thought better of asking any further. A man, she thought to herself. Had a man killed the Mystic princess? Or worse, violated her, driving her to take her own life? She shivered. Such scenarios were exactly why Animarian princesses were assigned their own protectors. Hers had been late in the making, for whatever reason, but now she was thankful she had one at all. Of course, she had repaid his service poorly, evading him on a whim not twenty minutes ago...

"I shall take my leave now, my lady," Xander spoke, after a lengthy silence. "The Solaris Knight will be looking for me."

"Yes, indeed."

With another polite bow of the head, he got up and left, leaving the young princess to her thoughts. She fell back on the grass and closed her eyes again, her mind made up about him. He did not seem a bad man, and he was certainly likeable, but the ease with which he had spoken of adultery did not make for a promising marriage. She would never love him, thus she could hardly deny him the chance to find it elsewhere, but she knew she would grow miserable watching him rejoice in love while she suffered without. No. It would be better for her to find a man who was above such trifles, a man who would not stray from her bed but would not care to visit it too often either. A man as loveless as she.

* * *

Unbeknownst to the Princess, her protector knew exactly where she was. Her handmaiden had informed him of her vanishing act the moment he had arrived in her antechamber that morning, and he had set out to locate her at once, fearing both for her safety and reproach from the King. The King was short-tempered at the best of times, so how would he have reacted to the news that the Princess was missing on this day of all days? The fact that Cole had not yet been on duty when she disappeared would not have mattered to him, and Cole had known it.

Fortunately for Cole, he had found his charge within half an hour of searching, spotting her afield from an adjacent wall-walk. A guard was posted a few feet away, and Cole had casually nodded at him, acting as if he had known the Princess was there all along. He had then taken up post where he stood, behind the parapet, back straight and hands folded; he understood the Princess' need for space, and how miserable the suitor gathering was making her, though he did not know why. Thus, he thought nothing of it when Merrick entered the field not long after he had started his watch, despite having heard the same whispers everyone else had. He was rather obtuse in that way, reliant on others to clue him in on the social goings-on around him, but Max and Danny were not interested in such matters, and Alyssa and Taylor were both obliged to silence by their loyalty to the Princess.

For his part, Merrick was just as oblivious but for a different reason. The field was lightly guarded at all times, as were most areas inside the castle, and he even knew the names of some of the regular guards, so he simply had no reason to look to the parapet as he hurried across the field, thereby missing his chance to avoid scandal. The sight of Princess Shayla lying on the grass in front of him was a shock, so much so that he stopped in his tracks, ignoring the instinct to turn on his heel and flee. His vigil under her window last week had doubtlessly been foolish, but his wish to see her had now been granted all the same, albeit in a more public fashion than he would have liked. He could not leave now; when would he get this chance again?

The Princess sensed him stand above her, then move around her, but assumed he was a stranger and pretended to be asleep. Xander had already disrupted the peace she had come out here to seek, and, in any case, she was not in the mood for more conversation. She would be up against any number of suitors in under an hour, in an ordeal that would last the entire morning, so when Merrick sat by her side, she continued her facade.

"I never thought I would find you here."

It was all she could do to avoid gasping. His presence was not surprising, exactly, for this was his main stomping ground, yet she had expected him to be elsewhere—patrolling the corridor outside the throne room with the other elite warriors, shutting himself away in his chambers, or even visiting some tavern. But here, performing his usual routine, as if nothing out of the ordinary was about to take place? As if nothing that happened this day would affect him? This she had not anticipated, and it left her with a sinking heart.

"I did not think I would see you again," he continued, none the wiser. "You cannot hear me, and you will probably have no further cause to, but perhaps that emboldens me."

He paused for a second, and her heart sank further still. While he questioned what he was about to say, words that could never be taken back, she was sure he had met someone else and shifted his affections. Despite the jealousy coursing through her, she did not blame him. Anyone else in the kingdom would be easier to love, even a noble lady. Taylor's betrothed, Eric, was a commoner, too, but the most her lordly father had been able to do to deter him was deliver a barrage of verbal abuse before quickly realising the couple would only grow stronger in the face of opposition. He did not have the legal jurisdiction to act any further and had therefore given up. On the other hand, mere scoldings were only the beginning of what the King could do, and Merrick had already had a taste.

"I always thought I would be your protector," Merrick said. "I should be, and not only because I want to be by your side. Cole is an excellent warrior and leader, but he will never be able to protect you half as well as he would Alyssa. He cannot help it. It is man's natural instinct. Alas, the King made his choice and was perhaps right not to choose me. Letting you go would have only been more difficult had I spent every waking moment with you these last two moons up until your... departure. Not long from now, your husband will be the only protector you need. For your own sake, I hope you will try to love him and have him love you in return. It will make him want to protect you that much more."

The last few sentences were painful, but he barrelled through until the end in a steady voice. He did not want to sound pathetic to himself, especially because this was the one and only time he would allow himself to be so open with her. Before he could think his actions over, he took hold of the hand that lay by his side and pressed it lightly against his lips.

From across the field, the guard snorted in amusement and Cole's face burned red with embarrassment.


	10. Chapter 10

"Princess Shayla, crown princess to our realm and only daughter of our esteemed King."

The herald's voice bounced off the walls, and the chamber grew quiet. In a break from protocol, Cole was to be by Princess Shayla's side the entire time she was in the chamber rather than standing outside the door until she called for him, so he had been instructed to escort her in on his arm in place of the King, who was already seated. Most of the suitors had arrived within the hour, including Xander, though none of his family members were to be seen. The hopeful men ranged in age and stature from a dozen hunched-over and old to a handful of young and strapping. A tall dark-haired man stood out among the rest with his opulent black furs, drawing ire from the other young men.

Princess Shayla seemed to float on air as Cole walked her to her gilded seat, belying the turmoil bubbling deep within. The pair dispersed as the King rose from his throne to receive his daughter, and Cole went to stand behind her chair. She stared straight ahead once she was seated, unable to concentrate on her current surroundings. To the suitors, she looked the part of a demure bride ripe for the plucking, not an uninterested woman whose mind was stuck in the recent past, with a man who could not have her.

"My thanks, my lords, for gracing my daughter with your presence," the King said. "Now come forward and present yourselves, and I shall see which one of you has the honour of being chosen as the royal son in law."

The suitors proceeded to line up in front of the thrones as if at a market, pushing one another and tiptoeing to see where they were in the line. In all the commotion, the victor of this unofficial round stumbled forward and nearly fell at the King's feet. He quickly regained his balance as some of his rivals snickered behind him, his smooth blond hair falling gracefully around his face, but his appeal ended there. His clueless expression paired with the mismatched purple and white clothes he wore made him look positively clownish. The King took one glance at him and hoped he had a substantial army. When it came to marriage, a man's looks mattered very little compared to a woman's, but a nation's son-in-law could not look like an embarrassment. It would have to be a very large army, indeed.

"Lord Jindrax of Org," the herald announced, and Lord Jindrax bowed twice to the King, once on purpose, once by accident, the second being meant for the Princess. He turned to her and bowed once more, but she had already turned her gaze back to the door.

"My lord, I am honoured to meet you," he said, turning back to the King and folding his hands behind his back. "What a large castle you have."

Needless to say, his presentation did not last long. His army was no larger than the Lord of Silver Hills', and he was actually only the Lord of Ich-Org, a small swathe of land in the southwest. The real power in his region was his liege lord, the as-yet unmarried Prince of Org, who had declined the King's invitation. He was soon forgotten as several more men introduced themselves, one of whom managed to make an impression on the King but was too old for the Princess' liking.

When it came time for Xander's turn, he had little to say that the King and the Princess did not already know, so he decided to do something different. Reaching into his leather garment, he pulled out a thin length of wood with a green bull figurine attached to one end and pointed the other end at the Princess. For the first time since leaving the field, she stopped thinking of Merrick and returned to the present, realising that she was now the sole centre of attention. Xander whispered a couple of indecipherable words, and the wood emitted a green jet of light that headed straight for her and hit her in the chest. Everyone but the King made some manner of noise in response, and again when the flower embroidery on the Princess' gown burst to life.

"My lord," she said, touching the blue flower protruding from the centre of her neckline. It separated from the fabric at the slightest tug, and the rest of the embroidery returned to its original state. She twirled the small flower between her fingers, unable to help the smile that appeared on her face. "How... magnificent."

"My lady," he replied, bowing, before joining the ranks of the others who had already been seen.

The Princess placed the flower in her hair, and although she quickly lost interest in the current proceedings once more, she no longer seemed miserable. Standing forgotten in the shadows, his back pressed against a wall, Lord Jindrax lost all hope and made a quiet exit.

* * *

Meanwhile, a couple of hundred feet away from the Presence Chamber, someone else pressed herself up against a wall as she crept along a corridor. She had evaded the guards and warriors thus far, but the corridor she had just come through was being patrolled by Taylor, who thought she had heard footfalls behind her but had been unable to see anything. The young woman had frozen then, for her powers were not infallible. She was capable of complete camouflage when immobile, but when she moved, even by a fraction, her outline was visible to anyone who looked closely enough. Waiting until Taylor turned away to move on had only worked because she was not one to stand still.

The same could not be said of Merrick. Unlike the others, he was neither pacing his designated corridor nor standing at one end like the guards and granting entry to whoever wished to come through. Instead, he stood about midway against the same wall the young woman crept along, both blocking her way and ensuring she would not be able to cross over to the other wall without being detected. She halted a few steps away from him, determined to wait him out as she had Taylor.

By the time Lord Jindrax rounded the corner, Merrick had still not moved. Lord Jindrax cursed with every step he took, and Merrick gave him a once-over as he walked by, assuming he had been thrown out by the King. He chuckled to himself, trying not to think of all the other men who had _not_ been thrown out. He had fully unburdened himself to the Princess, and while the thought of her marrying someone else still hurt, he had accepted it as the reality. Now he only wished she would marry a good man, and the fact the clownish lord had failed seemed to confirm that the King was of the same mind.

"Merrick!" Taylor's voice carried through the air, and he stood to attention, stepping away from the wall. The mystery woman, still in the same spot, repressed a sigh as her former obstacle met the current.

"Is anything wrong?" Merrick asked.

"Was the lord who just left lingering here earlier? Pacing, maybe?"

"No. He all but sprinted from one end to the other." Taylor nodded, her brows pulling together. "What is it?"

"I felt a presence over in the next corridor."

He pressed his lips together. "A presence."

She crossed her arms. "Yes. A _human_ presence, since it is still the morning. It was quick, but it was there."

"That is not possible. No one slips by you; you would have seen them."

"That is true, but I know what I heard."

"Very well. I have not seen anything, but I will keep my eyes and ears open."

He said this mostly to humour her, but the young woman stiffened as Taylor returned to her corridor, assuming Merrick was more alert than ever. Watching him lean against the wall again, she deduced that he would not move until the gathering was over, by which point her venture would be futile, so she resolved to retreat. This turned out to be a mistake. Between Taylor's awareness and Merrick's presence, she became so anxious that she nearly slipped when beginning to backtrack, stepping loudly on the ground as she regained her footing.

Merrick looked up, then to his right where she stood, still concealed from his eyes. "Taylor?"

Even as he said her name, he did not truly expect an answer. He placed his right hand on his sabre as he drew closer to his unseen adversary, ready to fight, but it was his elbow that dug sharply into her side. He recoiled at once, blinking rapidly at the wall as she yelped and materialised, first an outline and then a figure shrouded in a black cloak. She did not attempt to flee, knowing the guards and Taylor would have her cornered within a minute, but she did not pull her hood back and reveal her face to him either.

He unsheathed his sabre and pointed it at her. "Who are you?" He had seen magic in action before but never like this. It suddenly struck him how easily someone like her could assassinate the King or even Princess Shayla, and his voice grew louder when he spoke again. "Who are you and what are you doing here?"

"You can put your weapon down," she said through gritted teeth, holding her arms up. "I am unarmed."

Guessing there might be a dozen daggers strapped inside her cloak, he did not take her word for it. "So you say. Now answer me."

"I am servant to one of the suitors, and I am here to deliver an urgent message to him."

"Why the secrecy, then? All you had to do was tell the guards who you were and they would have granted you entry."

"That is none of your concern. It is between my lord and me." Her choice of words worried him.

"Are you truly a messenger? Because this is not the time or place for anything or anyone else."

Under her hood, her otherwise pale face grew pink and she growled. "Do not presume to tell me. I know better than anyone not to waste my lord's time. What I have to say is of the utmost importance."

He nodded, mainly to himself because she could not see him. His voice was gentler when he asked who her lord was, but it meant nothing to her when she was still at swordpoint.

"You need not know that," she said. "Just take me to the suitor gathering."

"Then at least tell me your name...?"

The woman waited for Merrick to cancel his request and tapped her foot impatiently. After a few minutes or so of silence, she gave in.


	11. Chapter 11

"I am telling you," Bowen said to his wife, urging her to listen. "One minute she was standing there, and the next she was gone."

Maddie shook her head. "How? You say you gave her chase, but how could she be there in one corridor and not in the next?"

"She must have used magic."

"That sort of power requires years of study, Bowen. It is not possible."

"What is not possible?" Vida asked, walking towards them with Charles, or Chip, as his family called him. Both had a spring in their steps, and while Maddie greeted them with a smile, Bowen raised an eyebrow at the pair.

"Where have you two been? You are late."

"In our assigned area. Where else? We lost track of the time."

"Hmm. I was in the West Wing earlier, and I did not see either of you there."

"Oh, we were there," Chip said, sharing a coy smile with Vida who smoothed her bodice down. Maddie looked between the two, biting back a laugh. "We were—"

The truth suddenly hit Bowen, and he held a hand up. "I have changed my mind; I do not want to know... Now listen. I have sighted her."

Vida turned to her sister as if to ask if it were true, just as Chip asked, "Where?"

"In the main building."

"Did she see you?"

"Yes, but she ran before I could speak to her."

"And you lost her? How? The guards should have stopped her for questioning."

"Apparently not," said Maddie. "They all say they did not see anyone, even those who guard the very corridor Bowen chased her into."

"You were not there?" Vida asked.

"No."

"Well, then, Bowen, are you sure it was really her?" Bowen frowned. "Did you see her face?"

"Of course I did! What do you take me for?"

Chip and Maddie exchanged worried looks.

"Look," he began. "Maybe you saw a servant who resembles her."

She nodded. "Someone the guards would not care to mention."

"Then why did she run upon seeing me? Besides, she was not dressed like any servant I have seen here."

Vida shrugged. "Maybe she was a lady. Maybe she ran because she did not want to be seen alone with a married man, and the guards did not tell you where she went because they thought you were harassing her. You do have that look."

Bowen scowled at his sister-in-law, used to her sarcasm, but with Maddie and Chip doubting him as well, his faith began to waver.

* * *

In the Presence Chamber, the line of suitors had whittled down to four. The man in the black furs, who had calmly stood by during the shoving episode and been pushed to the back, stepped forward at last but, unlike his counterparts, did not scramble to bow to the King. He did not lower his gaze to the ground, either, looking straight ahead in the same manner Princess Shayla had all morning, his eyes fixed upon the space between the thrones.

"Lord Dai Shi," the herald announced. "Lord of the Dai Shi clan."

"Dai Shi," he corrected as he bowed to the King, the deep timbre of his voice matching the severe features on his face. "It is a title, not a name."

The herald blushed, ducking his head. "A mistake on the scrolls, my lord."

Dai Shi bowed to the Princess, then turned back to the King without so much as a smile or customary exchange of pleasantries. She was so surprised that she did not immediately return her gaze to the doors, beginning to understand just how rude she had seemed to the Mystics when they had first arrived. The Mystic women had since got to know her, but she had still not spoken to the men, besides Xander. If she married him, she realised, she would find herself mortified in front of them, and rightly so. She had not cared at the time, but now her behaviour gnawed at her, and not only because she had not yet known that Xander was a suitor.

"We have never had a man of the Dai Shi clan marry one of our princesses before," the King said.

"We have never had the chance to do so."

That was true enough. Suitor gatherings were only held for women who were likely to ascend to the throne, which seldom happened, and Princess Shayla's was the first since her great-grandmother's, whereupon her great-great-grandfather had selected a prince. The Dai Shi at the time had been busy fighting a war with a rival faction.

"I hear the clan has some formidable warriors. The Rin Shi, is tha-"

The double doors were thrown open just then, cutting the King off mid-speech, and the herald floundered as not one but two people not listed on his scrolls entered. He knew better than to announce Merrick's arrival, but the appearance of a woman at a suitor gathering had him lost for words.

Princess Shayla nearly blurted out Merrick's name herself, her mind returning to the fields earlier that day, but it was Dai Shi who spoke.

"Camille?"

"Oh, Dai Shi..."


	12. Chapter 12

Time seemed to stop in the Presence Chamber as the stranger Camille spoke to Dai Shi in hushed tones, her face still obscured by her hood. Almost fascinated by her failure to curtsy to or even acknowledge him, the King stared at her, missing the next suitor in line's attempts to catch his eye over Dai Shi's shoulder. The suitor then chanced a glance at the prize herself, hoping to bypass the cumbersome middleman altogether, but the daughter, as the father, was similarly distracted.

'Why?' Princess Shayla wanted to ask as Merrick stood at the other end of the chamber, enduring the quiet beration of the royal herald for his breach of protocol. 'Why now?'

Her heart had broken the day she had learnt of her impending marriage, but she had long since accepted the inevitable. She happened to be heir to the throne due to her lack of a brother or elder sister, but her main purpose as a princess had always been to bind the land of her marital home, whether a principality or a lord's protectorate, to her kingdom of birth. It had only become more important once it became apparent that there would be no brothers.

By the standards of the day, her fate had been delayed long enough. For all the rules and restrictions the King had placed on her, he had been a merciful father, allowing her to enjoy a far longer girlhood than other princesses had, did, and would in the near future. Indeed, the late Queen had already been her mother for five years by her age, having married at fourteen and barely survived childbirth a year later. The King's sister and countless others had not been so fortunate.

The Princess knew she could not ask for more. She dared not ask for more.

Being away from Merrick had stung anew those first couple of days, their recent distance compounded by the more permanent separation on the horizon, but as the weeks had passed by, the Princess had steeled herself. There could be no separation, she had decided, when there had been no union. They had not lain together, embraced, or even exchanged words of love. Whatever they may have felt, they had never been more than friends. It was a thankless, wearying task, but she could have reasoned with herself thus for an eternity if Merrick would have let her. If he had not declared his love, renounced it, and kissed her, all with the same mouth, all within a ten-minute period.

Across the chamber, the royal herald finished his tirade, and Merrick immediately stepped away, arms crossed, shaking his head. To hear the herald tell it, it was no less than committing murder to bring a person inside without permission. The King's permission, he had said, but Merrick was sure he had meant his own.

He shook his head again, debating whether to quit the chamber with Camille still inside. She had been no more forthcoming about her intentions after divulging her name than she had before, spurring on in him the very suspicions she had denied, but nevertheless, she had not approached Dai Shi as one would a lover, nor had Dai Shi reacted to her as such. Yet, by Merrick's reckoning, there was something amiss. Camille dressed simply enough, but her manner of speech bordered on arrogant, and her gait had a certain peculiarity about it, neither servile nor humble. Certainly, she had yet to bow to the King.

Merrick lowered his head at the thought, wrapping his arms tighter until he was nearly embracing himself, or rather, restraining himself. He could not risk looking ahead at the King, only for his gaze to stray. Princess Shayla was now as far out of his reach as ever, and although his mind had released her, his heart was less sure. One he had control of, the other none, and the whole castle knew what had happened the one time the latter had won in the King's presence. He thanked the stars that Leanbow had saved him from another scandal that drunken eventide in the courtyard. Of course, he had made a far worse transgression in sobriety and daylight this very morning, a fact he had not yet allowed to occur to him.

"My lord King."

Dai Shi's voice cut through the murmurs of the suitors who had already presented themselves, and everyone turned to him. He was facing the King again, his veiled companion standing silently by his side, her hands folded in front of her.

"Dai Shi," the King replied, tearing his gaze from Camille.

"I extend my gratitude for the invitation, but I must take my leave immediately."

"What?" The King looked back to Camille, accusation writ clearly on his face. He fast approached the same assumptions Merrick had initially made. "Why, after travelling all this way and presenting yourself?"

"I regret that it cannot be avoided, for I would not forgo this honour for any less, but my lord understands the perils of ruling better than anyone."

"That I do... Very well. I shall not keep you any longer."

Thus the young lord and the King exchanged a few more customary words before the former made his exit, Camille trailing dutifully behind him, and the next suitor in the line eagerly sprung forward to replace him. Merrick waited only long enough for the departed pair to gain a respectable distance on him and then he, too, was gone. As the latest suitor droned on like the others before him, the Princess deflated in her seat, her silent questions left unanswered.

* * *

Lord Jindrax paced the length of the chamber he had been assigned to upon arrival, his face buried in his hands. Gone were the curses and obscenities he had muttered on the way from the Presence Chamber, replaced by deranged utterings of floggings and execution awaiting him in his homeland.

A veiled woman lay on his bed from where she watched him, the fingers of one hand curled around the nearest bedpost. She tightened her grip on the wood as she briefly imagined wringing his neck instead. His ramblings had begun the moment he had burst into the chamber ten minutes ago, and she had never been a patient woman. Scarcely two moons ago had she pushed her way into the castle's Council Chamber itself, unwilling to wait even for a king.

When he mentioned decapitation yet again, she decided enough was enough and pulled herself up by the arm.

"All right," she said, drawing closer to the footboard of the bed. "Tell me how you ruined our plans this time."

His feet stopped before the rest of his body did, and he nearly toppled to the ground as he had in front of the King not half an hour past. "I?"

"Yes, you. Why do you think I accompanied you here? The Prince knew this would happen."

"I will doubtless be punished before I can open my mouth, but I would like it known, posthumously, that I did nothing wrong this once."

He did not have to see her lip curling under her veil to know that she did not believe him. Sighing, he slumped into the nearest chair, perversely placed, as in every antechamber, so that the occupier could peer into the bedchamber, and vice versa. She was in clear view from his vantage point, head tipped to the side, arms wound around the bedpost like ivy to a column.

"It is true. This time I have failed not because of my folly but the superiority of my opponents."

"A dozen elderly sycophants?"

"I am serious, Toxica," he said, his voice losing its characteristic high-pitched edge. "I had already lost before I stepped foot in the arena. There were princes there. Old and decrepit, but princes just the same. Do you think the old king cares for their ages when they are wealthier than most younger men? As for the pitiful size of my army, there was at least one warlord present to trump me."

This took Toxica by surprise. The reconnaissance carried out by their underlings had not yielded a warlord, or anyone with a substantial army, among the Animarian princess' suitors.

"Who?" she asked.

He shook his head. "He was far from presenting himself when I left the chamber."

"Then how are you so sure he is a warlord?"

"He had the look of one. Easily the largest man in the chamber, wearing furs that no doubt concealed most of his battle scars; too young or menacing to have any on his face, yet." He hung his head in his hands. "He will get her if the wizard does not."

"The wizard?"

"Magician, whatever he is. Uses a wand. Charmed the princess with a magic trick. That was when I knew I had lost. I would be surprised if she looked at anyone else after that."

She did not know whether to curse him or their obviously incompetent underlings, so her disdain settled for a third target. "Charmed by a magic trick? I knew when I saw her that she was no maid, but it sounds like the old whore has been had by the court bard and every minstrel who ever passed through the kingdom."

Mind turning back to punishments and his prince, he latched on to only one word. "Old?"

"She is no less than twenty. No respectable woman her age has still not been wedded."

"Bedded?"

"Wedded," she said through gritted teeth, planting her feet on the floor. "Where is your head at, Jindrax? You cannot sit idle until her father gives her to someone else. She must be delivered to the Prince."

He looked up from his hands, weary, as she stood. "How? They forgot to tell us that she has a personal protector. He was right there at her side in the chamber."

She joined him in the antechamber, retrieving her weapon—her staff—from the table in front of him.

"A protector can be removed."


End file.
